


Blood Debt

by Red_Cheshire



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adoption, Family Bonding, Gen, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Mandalorian Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Not Beta Read, References to Cultural Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Cheshire/pseuds/Red_Cheshire
Summary: The Mandalorians are an old culture and, for better or worse, have their ways to discourage open warfare between clans. As the grandpadawan of Master Dooku Obi-Wan was dragged into the middle of it.~The True Mandalorians survived the would-be massacre of Galidraan, the Mand'alor wasn't sold into slavery, and the course of destiny unravels.
Comments: 17
Kudos: 318
Collections: Spooky Wars Week





	Blood Debt

**Author's Note:**

> For the Spooky Week prompt "Ancient Enemies."

«Nice shot!» Myles smiled down at his _kih’vod_ and ruffled his hair proudly. «I can see that you've been practising.» 

The boy leaned into the touch and let himself relish the praise before he lined up his blaster to shoot the next long distance target. His little brother was still not used to adult approval and it showed. Despite the fresh start a year of care wouldn't, and couldn’t, erase the weight of his past. 

Ben had come far since he joined their clan and it wasn't just in his increasing skill with a blaster and head for strategy. The foundling had come to trust his new family despite his ‘unconventional’ adoption and the trauma of being cast out into the cold by his _osik’la dar’_ _b_ _uir_. 

The shy affection they had encouraged, under steady hand, to take root within Ben’ika towards his new clan had grown. It had gone to show how well the child had been suited to becoming Mandalorian. 

It was a shame that the _jetiise_ had claimed him first. 

After half an hour of sniper practice, with Myles offering small corrections and adjustments whenever needed, it was time for a break. He watched his little brother fiddle absently with his sleeves, eyes focused on horizon as if it held all the stars secrets, as he nursed his canteen. 

Ben’s gaze flicked over to his older brother, the hesitation Myles could read in his posture holding back the words he was overthinking. 

« _Ori’vod..._ _I_ ,» he started, the words – still coloured by his fading Coruscanti accent despite his increasing fluency in Mando’a – halted from whatever was going on in his head. Myles put down his canteen and waited, watched as Ben gathered himself. 

His _vod’ika_ reached one hand up to tangle in his hair, fingers pulling at where he’d once had a braid, and after a long moment continued. «I’m glad that the Mand’alor asked for me... I know it was to pay the blood debt rather than knowing me, but I’m happy to be part of our clan.» 

Myles couldn’t hide the smile that split his face, or the joy that filled his body language, and didn’t want to. He pulled Ben into a tight hug and buried his face in fluffy red hair. «And we’re happy to have you, little sibling. You have no idea how good it is to hear that.» 

Myles held the joy he felt in his mind, bringing it to the fore over his satisfaction at the confession, knowing that Ben’ika would feel it with his Star-gift. This was the first time Ben had outwardly admitted what they’d seen as grief faded and heartfelt smiles became more common. 

It was what their clan had worked so hard to achieve. 

«I know adjusting has been hard but I’m _so_ proud of you. We all are,» And they _were_ , the entire clan were proud of their newest member. Ben felt the truth in his words and melted into the embrace, leaning against Myles’ armour like his _ori’vod_ was the only solid thing in the world. 

~ 

“Gods! What are you _doing_ here, Obi-Wan?” 

Even with his face hidden behind his _buy’ce_ Ben resisted the urge to glare at Garen for using his old name. That chapter in his life was _long_ gone. “My name’s Ben, _not_ Obi-Wan,” he drawled, and gestured to one of his blasters. “And I’m quite clearly working.” 

Ben really hadn’t expected to see any of his crechemates again despite the will of the Force, though perhaps he should have considering he was currently standing in the bowels of Coruscanti Undercity and was in the middle of a mission. The Force and Ka’ra did love their surprises. 

“What?” The Padawan looked baffled despite the hopeful brightness to his presence. “I _know_ you're Obi-Wan. There’s no way I could forget your Force signature. We grew up together!” 

“Names can change, and mine hasn’t been Obi-Wan for years.” Ben couldn’t hold back his annoyance at Garen’s use of his old name. “Rather, it hasn’t been since the Order paid its blood debt to the Haat Mando’ade.” The Mando’a term rolled comfortably from his tongue, momentarily strengthening his accent. 

“Ob—“ Garen cut himself off and then corrected, “Ben. Would you like to catch up? I missed you and so have the rest of our crechemates. Even Bruck got that stick out of his ass.” 

Ben considered the offer, and the holodisc full of juicy Senatorial secrets and blackmail material sitting in his pocket that he needed to get to the Mand’alor. Having a _jetii_ companion, at least for a few hours, would serve well to throw off any suspicion from Judicial. “I’ve got some time to spare.” 


End file.
